The Catalyst
by Avatar of Adarin
Summary: As southern Kalimdor falls under a shroud of darkness, the Cenarion Circle stands against an age-old threat. Meanwhile, a night elf druid searching for his father uncovers the terrible evil sweeping across the land and sets out on a quest to banish it.
1. Prologue: Dreams

It all started with a dream. And not just any dream niether, it was the first memory that Adarin Dreamwalker could recall, as vague as it may be. A memory over ten thousand years old…

--

It was high noon; the time when the night elves were at their weakest for the sun was at its peak. Many heroes had joined the fight against The Burning Legion in an attempt to retake Zin-Azshari. Most of these heroes were not known by this title yet, but each would one day affect the entirety of the world, many times over. A time when Illidan Stormrage would battle alongside the time-lost Rhonin, facing demons from another realm; A night elf fighting alongside an alien ally from the future, foreshadowing the alliance that would one day take place when the threat of The Burning Legion would return a second time.

All this seemed highly unlikely at the moment. However the circumstance came to be did not matter. What did matter was the legion of demons charging towards the prepared night elven forces.

The army readied itself for the assault as an order from the commanding officer, Lord Kur'talos Ravencrest, shouted to the archers, telling them to knock their bows and fire on command. Among these archers was a young boy, who was obviously not quite ready for the chaos that was about to unfold before him. His hair was green, cut relatively short, and styled back as it spiked at the back of his head.

He wore a simple leather outfit that was far too large for his physique. The leggings were hugged tight to his body, with a band of studded-leather around the hips. His vest, however, barely fit his small shoulders. Two straps, attached to the leggings, were wrapped around his shoulders, crisscrossing over his chest and back. Aside from the bow, he had a quiver on his right hip filled with a dozen or so arrows. On the other side, a sheath concealing a long sword weighed him down.

A night elf to his right, who was donned in the same outfit, appeared to fill it much more efficiently. He called the boy by name.

"Adarin, remember, concentrate on your target," instructed the obviously much more battle oriented elf.

"Yes, Master Clintar," replied Adarin. With what little time they had to prepare themselves for the battle, Clintar had taken Adarin under his wing, teaching him what he could about the art of war. Although he only knew him for less than a handful of days, Adarin respected his teacher. He rescued him from the clutches of a Felhound, seemingly out of nowhere, as it was draining every bit of his life out of him. Clintar had been the first person that Adarin could remember that he had a family-like relationship with. After being saved, Ravencrest had suggested that Adarin accompany them on their mission to retake their ancient city.

Clintar had been the first person, as far as Adarin could remember, that he had a family-like relationship with. Clintar had spent much time training Adarin with what he could. The young night elf even looked up to Clintar as somewhat of a father figure. Adarin could not recall if he had parents or not. If he did, they likely died before he was old enough to retain any memory of them. Adarin had also met Clintar's best friend, Enron, who acted more like a brother than a friend to Adarins father figure. Clintar and Enron always fought back-to-back, defending each other when necessary. Both were formidable warriors in their own right.

Clintar knew that Ravencrest had been desperate for troops, but considering the fact that a mere boy, barely able to hold the bow that he now aimed, stood awaiting the coming of beasts he couldn't have dreamed about, the situation had obviously been much more dire than he or his brother believed.

And then it happened, Ravencrest's hand dropped and a volley of arrows surged toward the hulking monstrosities. As soon as he saw both Clintar and Enron fire expertly, he followed suit, though his reaction to the hand signal was a bit delayed. A flurry of bolts rushed toward the demon's front line, catching them off guard. It upset Adarin that he would never know if that arrow actually hit anyone. It was rather likely, though, as hundreds of beasts toppled over, face-first into the dirt. If the actual impact of the arrow had killed any of the beasts was uncertain, but it did not matter. They would likely be crushed under the weight of an entire army marching on top of them.

With little time to rejoice, Ravencrest threw his hand in the air again, signaling to prepare for another volley. Adarin knocked another arrow into position and when the hand fell he released the string. It had seemed, however, that the creatures were learning. The majority of them threw their shields up. That strategy would likely not work again.

"All support units, fall to the back! All melee units, advance to the front line!" Ravencrest ordered. They had discussed their strategy, over and over again, before the battle had begun, so Adarin knew exactly where he was supposed to be and what he was supposed to do. He was part of the support team, which mainly consisted of archers, but the wizard Rhonin and the magically adept Illidan stood with them.

"Now is the time for battle… CHARGE!" screamed Ravencrest, as he motivated the troops with his bloodcurdling battle cry.

Rhonin threw his arms to the sky, as he shouted in some strange language he had never heard before, and Adarin could realize what had happened, as the ground beneath their adversaries began to ripple, sending dirt into the once clear sky. The only thing that could be heard was the clashing of metal weapons with armor and demonic howls.

Adarin raised his bow. Unlike before, his aim had to be precise. He could not afford to miss and hit one of his allies. He steadied his aim and released his grip. The arrow had been intended for the Felhounds in the frontline and the arrow had hit its target, albeit not where he intended it. He had aimed for the head but the projectile had instead hit the lupine-like creature's tentacle, taking it right off. The arrow continued on, past its intended target, finally ending its path in the throat of one of The Legions warriors. He had heard them called Felguards before, and had gathered that they were the backbone of the army.

The arrow had knocked the demon on its knees, as he gasped for air. One of the night elven soldiers leapt into the air, bringing his spear right into the chest of the foul abomination. Adarin took a moment to gather all the excitement in. Any doubt he had before of whether his first shot had hit had been completely washed away. It seemed that he had a knack for aim. He glanced over at Illidan, who seemed concentrated on a spell.

He knocked another arrow into his bow, and as he surveyed the area for another target, noticed several large black tentacles grow from the ground and wrap themselves around several of the Felguards necks. A few of the tentacles had wrapped themselves around the body of the Felhounds, as well, and as their grip tightened they seared the monstrosities in two.

Adarin fired his bow towards the Felhounds at the front again. With dead precision, the arrow had positioned itself conveniently into the beast's head, sending it crashing to the ground. Adarin reached for his quiver, pulling back another arrow. He fired his arrow, along with scores of other archers simultaneously, high up into the sky, aimed towards the back of the demonic army.

They only made it halfway, however, before some magical force had sent them plummeting back towards the night elves infantry. Adarin looked around for a hint of what to do. A night elf stood to his left, frozen in fear. The boy reached over and shook him, attempting to snap him out of the trance but it was too late. One of the arrows that had come flying back had lodged itself in his forehead. He fell to the ground immediately. Searching the battlefield, Adarin had noticed that the same thing had happened to several other archers around him.

The devastation was incredible. Enron ran over to his dead comrade with sorrow in his eyes. He let out a bloodcurdling scream as he dropped his bow and grabbed his long sword.

Adarin acted similar but before he could unsheathe it, he was struck in the shoulder by the same arrow he had fired moments before. Adarin fell like a ton of bricks.

Time, itself, seemed to speed up, fast-forwarding through several days. Adarin viewed as the events of the next two days flashed before his eyes in a matter of moments. He watched the night elven forces advance on Zin-Azshari, albeit unsuccessfully. Their loss was great and they eventually had to fall back. He watched as Enron retreated, carrying Adarin's lifeless body all the way to Mount Hyjal. With the aid of Rhonin, Malfurion and Illidan Stormrage, as well as the Moonguard, the army managed to fend off the demons long enough to allow the wounded to retreat to the highest point in all of the known world. Eventually, time slowed down again as Enron and an injured Adarin reached their destination – Mount Hyjal.

Two night elven priests rushed to tend to Adarin's wound, as Enron quickly yet carefully placed him on the ground. It had been more than two days since they had retreated from the battlefield. From their convenient vantage point high up in the mountains, Enron stared off into the distance, looking at the destruction being caused so far away. He could see that the two massive armies still clashed, although it had appeared that the night elves had bolstered their numbers somehow. Enron and Adarin would later discover that the night elves had struck an alliance with several of ancient Kalimdor's denizens. The bear-like furbolgs had come to defend the land alongside the night elves, who were also joined by the tauren, nomadic bull-men. Even the ancestors of the dwarves, the earthen, came to aid in the war effort. Enron could see, however, that the defenders of Kalimdor were slowly, but surely, losing.

It was then that Enron heard what sounded like a trumpet being blown, far off in the distance. As he focused in on its origin, he bore witness to the mighty deity, known as Cenarius, entering the fray of battle. He appeared much like a night elf from the waist up and like a stag from the waist down.

Cenarius raised his tree trunk-like arm into the sky and clenched his fist as gargantuan sentient trees, known as ancients, emerged from the forests and charged for the demonic forces. They hurled boulders at the demons in the sky, and swatted at the demons on the land.

Even smaller living trees, known as treants, added to the chaos that unfolded before Enron's very eyes. The treants used their adept natural abilities to draw roots from the ground. The roots raced for the flying demons, which mostly consisted of Nathrezim and Eredar, grabbed them and pulled them quickly to the ground. Hundreds of demons crashed into the soil and were held in place as the roots expanded over their entire bodies, so that they could be dealt with more appropriately by the blades of the mortal races.

Creatures, that looked nearly identical to Cenarius himself emerged from the woodlands as well, though the males of the group appeared much powerful than the females. The Keepers of the Grove and Dryads, respectively, used their various nature spells on the evil creatures that were defiling their land. Some even braved their way up to the front lines, as Enron watched one of the Dryads who wielded a spear charge for a Felhound. Unsuccessfully, she attempted to drive the spear through the abomination of nature but missed. Without hesitation, the beast latched its tentacle onto the Dryad and sucked the magic dry from within her.

Before Adarin could open his eyes, he heard a loud 'caw' sound not very far away. Pointing his attention to the skies, he witnessed an enormous white raven flying towards the battlefield some thirty feet above him. Enron, as well, noticed the noise as he turned to look at the gigantic bird.

"Aviana…" was the only word that Adarin could muster.

"Ironic. How something so beautiful charges towards something quite the opposite," added Enron as he followed the demigod with his eyes, then looked down at the battle that was still taking place.

Adarin sat up, and even atop the highest peak of ancient Kalimdor everyone on Mount Hyjal could feel the ground shake…

As he rose to his feet, there was no way he could have missed the sight of the gargantuan boar that was charging towards the battlefield. It was the largest thing that Adarin had ever seen, standing at roughly two hundred feet. The beast had large spines that grew from its back, although Adarin was not sure if they were actually spines or if they were just extremely thick fur clumped together. At the top of its four legs, however, it had horns that emerged from its 'shoulders' if one could call them that. Similarly, it had six tusks that all came from within the creatures wide maw as well as several runes, that gave off a blue light that, covering most of its body. Adarin now knew this creature to be Agamaggan, the ancestor of the quilboar, though he had no idea what was happening during his initial experience of this event.

Elsewhere they could see two mighty bears joining the battle, Ursoc and Ursol. The twin bears, which the Druids of the Claw have revered for centuries, also came to the aid of the mortal races.

They looked not much different than two normal bears would appear, though they were enormous compared to their mortal cousins. The only key difference, other than size, would most notably be the blue runes that covered both of the demigod's entirely. They each had unique patterns within the runes, probably to tell the difference between the two, though neither Adarin nor Enron knew which was which.

As the twin bears charged towards the battlefield, scores of winged demons dove from the sky towards the pair. One of the demons, a member of the Doomguard, was batted away by the massive paw of one of the bears and three other's fell from the sky before ever even reaching their intended target as the other bear roared in defiance, sending an invisible energy towards the winged demons.

Now they could tell who was who. Ursoc the Mighty was known for his uncanny strength and used tooth and claw to beat his enemies into submission whereas Ursol the Wise resorted to spells and cunning to defeat his foe.

As Aviana dashed through the skies, several Doomguard flew towards her with spears drawn. A loud 'kaugh' could be heard all over the battlefield as her lifeless body fell towards the ground. The holy blood that splattered from her body, however, was a final act of rebellion to the demons encroaching upon their world. It covered hundreds of the demonic entities, burning through their flesh more like acid than a blood.

Agamaggan was nowhere to be seen.

Ursoc and Ursol, however, were not fairing so well. Hundreds of Doomguard continued to assault them from the skies relentlessly, as dozens of Felhounds sucked the life out of them from the ground. As powerful as the Ancients were, they could only deal with so much. Within minutes, the twin bears withered and died. All that was left of them coursed through the veins of the Felhounds that had drained life out of them entirely.

Cenarius had witnessed the death of Aviana as well as the twin bears. Adarin and Enron watch helplessly from their vantage point as the demigod charged furiously into battle to avenge the death of his comrades. He crushed hundreds of Felguards and Felhounds with his antlers as he charged through their ranks in a frenzy, more akin to an animal than to a deity of his demeanor.

Countless demons had fallen by his hand that day, though it would prove not enough. As the demonic army circled in around the lone demigod, the mortal races tried to push their forces towards Cenarius to aid him in any way that they possibly could. Yet eventually, he was subdued by one of the Felguard. A spear was placed to his neck as the demon grinned in anticipation of the kill. He thrust the weapon towards his target.

The mortal races would not be able to make it in time to save his life.

However, a blinding flash of light erupted from the horizon and charged for the battlefield, blinding and then destroying hundreds upon hundreds of demons in its wake. The light also served to draw the attention of the would-be assassin of Cenarius. The Felguard dropped its spear as it, too, was blinded by the same white light that had destroyed so many other demons on its path. The entity rammed into the Felguard sending him flying to his death. As the light dimmed, the shape of a large stag stood in its place.

Malorne the Waywatcher, the father of Cenarius, had come his son's rescue.

He protected him for several minutes until the mortal races could make their way to Cenarius's limp body. Malorne looked to the night elves that had arrived at his unconscious son.

"_Please, take him to safety. I beg of you…"_ the great White Stag beckoned, though no voice could be heard outside of the night elf leader's head.

He nodded to the demigod and said aloud, "We will give our lives attempting to do so!"

Malorne's fury might have turned the tides of battle against the Burning Legion, had the demon lord Archimonde not appeared. Black lightning struck the ground around Malorne, baking it, as green fire raised from the ground engulfing the great White Stag entirely, burning at his fur coat. The earth around Malorne formed giant hands that that grabbed at his limbs, pinning his four legs to the ground.

Archimonde swelled in size, matching that of Malorne's height. Malorne freed himself from his magical trap, and charged towards Archimonde with his antlers. He smashed into the demon lord causing tremors and lightning as demonic forces and the mortal races of Azeroth nearby shook and fell to the ground in astonishment. Malorne and Archimonde battled for some time, until finally, Archimonde managed to seize Malorne and with great force snapped his neck. Cenarius's brave father, limp and lifeless, was simply tossed aside by the demon lord Archimonde.

Nearby, Malfurion Stormrage witnessed the death of his mentor's father. Knowing that his teacher lie unconscious and that Archimonde had just slayed Malorne, he quickly cast a spell that engulfed most of Archimonde with vines. The demon lord, analytical as always, decided to retreat as he vanished in a green flare of flames that consumed the vines.

Immediately after the Arch-demons escape, time began to speed up yet again. Adarin's memories led him and Enron back towards the battlefield where he and Enron had parted ways. Adarin seemed drawn away from the battlefield as voices in his head led him to a cave high up in the mountains.

Blackness enveloped his dreams as he entered the cave. Only a large triangular shaped face, covered in black scales, was able to penetrate this darkness as it stared directly at him, almost as if the beast were looking through him.

The top of the creature's head was covered in metallic plating that trailed down his spine, as it seemed to hold him together. The beast reached one of his clawed hands towards Adarin, which was holding some strange golden disk.

---

The last thing Adarin could remember was an unbearable pain surging throughout his entire body as he shot up from his bed, sweating and screaming. He sat himself on the edge of his bed, trying to collect his thoughts. He had been having this dream a lot lately and was not really sure of what it all meant.

His thoughts were interrupted by a rapping at the door of his one-roomed abode. He opened it, finding no one there at first glance, though a 'caw' drew his attention to the ground. A jet-black raven was suddenly enveloped in smoke, eventually forming a night elf. Adarin knew the figure that stood before him, and he was not entirely excited about his presence.

"Fandral… To what do I owe this honor?" Adarin asked, disguising his sarcasm.

"I require your attendance in Nighthaven Hall within the hour."

"May I inquire as to why?"

"No, you may not!" the Arch Druid barked. "You will know soon enough." Fandral began to walk away, but he turned his head around suddenly. "I am not _asking_ for your attendance, Adarin. I am telling for you be there…" With that said, Fandral Staghelm was no more. The raven that stood in his place took to the skies, leaving Adarin with even more questions than when he had first woken up.


	2. The Inner Circle

**Earlier That Day**

A rather muscular night elf stood amidst a sacred ruin, composed of several large stone slabs, which were aligned in a perfect circle. He wore a kilt, dressed with gray feathers at its side. A beige chain hung around his waist with a large orange pendant positioned in the center of the kilt at his hips. The remainder of the kilt was fashioned with a faded orange cloth. His chest was bare but he wore pouldrons on his shoulders crafted from the same feather that were scattered about his kilt. His bracers, as well, were lined with those feathers but they were mostly made of green leather. The shoulder-pieces were apparently held together with this same leather. He clasped a large staff in his hand that seemed to be shaped into a bear paw at the top. His teal colored hair hung down his face, parted to both sides, yet even more hair covered his chin.

"Fandral Staghelm…" the wind spoke as it blew past.

The night elf looked up curiously as the wind seemed to cause the tree's surrounding the Grove of the Ancients to creak under its strain. One of the trees even began to fall under the forces of the mighty gale. Two of the trees branches reached out, if it could be called that, catching the mighty oak before it hit the ground. It continued to creak, as the branches seemed to pull its roots from the ground. The tree pulled itself free as it came to life, shook rigorously as it stood tall, freeing hundreds of amber colored leaves, which fell to the ground around the night elf. The wood in the middle of its trunk stretched and skewered to resemble a face. It creaked towards Fandral as it lowered its face to meet that of the night elves.

"Onu…" said Fandral.

"Why have you disturbed my ancestral slumber?" the oak named Onu asked as it let out a yawn.

"I sense a great darkness in the dunes of southern Kalimdor," Fandral explained. "I have had visions of the War of the Shifting Sand, though they are not as I remember them."

"That was more than a thousand years ago. Why do you concern yourself with such things?" the tree questioned.

"If you recall, Onu, I lost my only child in that war! That is why I concern myself with _such things_!" he shouted back, putting emphasis on those last two words.

Onu eyes glowed white as it closed its wooden eyelids and began to chant in some ancient tongue Fandral was not familiar with. Seconds later, it opened them and the white light emanating from them dissipated.

"Yes. I can sense it as well. Though this is no mere vision, Fandral. The horrors that we locked behind the Gates of Ahn'Qiraj are stirring," Onu remarked with much wisdom behind his eyes. "Now, you must gather the Inner Circle and seek out what the cause of their commotion is."

"But what about the Nightmare that is corrupting the Emerald Dream? We have been trying to free those that have been turned into Unwaking for some time now. If we shift our attention elsewhere they may die, Malfurion included!" he shouted. Though Fandral cared little for Malfurion, he couldn't deny the Arch-druids power. He had command over the forces of nature like no one had ever seen.

"I suspect that if you dig deep enough you will find that these two occurrences are more closely connected than they may seem to be, Fandral Staghelm."

Fandral nodded and with that act the massive oak tree turned and walked back to where he was rooted into the ground moments before. He had to warn Hamuul immediately.

--

By the time Adarin had reached Nighthaven Hall, located in the mountain on the outskirts of Moonglade, there were two druids who had arrived there already. They stood next to each other and both eyed Adarin as he entered the sacred room. In the center of the sanctuary stood a statue that was obviously dedicated to the great forest lord Cenarius. Adarin walked over to the other two people.

The man on the left wore a dark green robe, very similar to his own. Adarin recognized this man as Fandral Staghelm, the Arch-druid of the night elves within the Cenarion Circle - the same Fandral who had sent him the invitation. The man on the right, he was unfamiliar with, but by his garments he could tell that he, too, was a druid of great respect. Adarin assumed that he was Hamuul, the person who cosigned the message. Though he was cloaked to hide his appearance, he could tell that he was a member of the tauren race judging by his size.

Over the course of an hour, seven other shrouded figures entered the room, aligning themselves in a circle around the statue of Cenarius. Each wore the same light green robe, which signified rank within the Cenarion Circle.

"You have all been summoned here today because a great darkness has overcome our people," spoke Fandral. "And that darkness was the second coming of the Burning Legion. Several of our key advisers had their lives taken in the war, and until now we hadn't a need to replace them. Look around you. Know the people who are in this room. Learn to trust them, for each of us will more than likely be saving each other's lives over the next few months."

Adarin surveyed his surroundings. There were ten people in all, each with hoods on as to mask their identity. Five of them were night elves, himself and Fandral included. He could tell by their general physique. Two others stood as tall as Hamuul, signifying that they were also tauren. Adarin had only seen the tauren a few times during the Third War, but he had seen plenty during the War of the Ancients that he dreamed of so often. The last two, however, were a total mystery and Adarin noticed that uneasiness on everyone but Fandral, Hamuul, and the two mysterious members in the room. They were just as anxious to see what was hiding under those cloaks as he was. They were slightly smaller than the average night elf, but seemed to be as stocky as the tauren who stood among them. It was clear, however, that these were neither night elf, nor were they tauren. Adarin also noted that one of the two cloaked figures wore a dark green cloak, rather than the light green one that everyone else wore.

"We have gathered here today to discuss the standing of the Cenarion Circle," said Fandral. "But first, there are several new faces among us since the absence of Malfurion. I must ask that all members of the council step forward and state your name." Fandral took the initiative, stepping inside the circle that the group had formed at the beginning of the meeting.

"I am Arch-druid Fandral Staghelm and I have taken over for Malfurion in this time of great need," he finished stepping back.

The tauren who had been standing with Fandral stepped in, removing his dark green hood. He was indeed a tauren who had seen much battle. His left horn had been partially cracked, leaving only half of it remaining. "I am known as Hamuul Runetotem, Arch-druid of the tauren race." Though Adarin had already guessed corrently as to his identity.

Another stepped forward, this one a night elf, and Adarin could tell it was a female from her slightly smaller build. "I am Seramar Moonflame, twin sister of Shiromar Moonflame, a lieutenant in the War of the Shifting Sands who served under Fandral Staghelm." She paused for added effect. "And I am the first female representative of the Inner Circle."

Hamuul then patted the figure to the left of him on the shoulder. Another tauren, though this one slightly smaller in build, walked to the center. As the druid removed its hood, Adarin could tell it was a female.

"And I would be second," she said as she looked to her father for approval. "I am Bashana Runetotem, offspring to the Arch-druid of my people.

"My, how the times have changed…" one of the night elves interjected. As the man removed his hood, it was apparent that he had seen many battles. Scars stretched from one side of his face to the other and his silver hair reached towards the earth. "Not more than a few years ago it would have been considered blasphemy for a woman to take up the mantle of druidism!" Both Seramar and Bashana slipped him irritating glares but Hamuul interrupted before things got out of hand.

"As you said yourself Enron, the times _have_ changed. Our people suffered a serious blow during the Third War and as I'm sure you are aware, desperate times call for new measures to be taken to ensure the survival of our ways," Hamuul added, joining the women in their piercing gaze.

"Finish your introduction so that we may move on to more pressing matters!" Fandral scolded.

"Very well. I am Enron Ironfeather. I have traveled here from Cenarion Hold, and we have much to discuss. I am afraid to inform you that there is more at stake here than Fandral has led you to believe," he argued, as he was quickly cut off by Hamuul again.

"Hold your tongue, Enron. Let the introductions finish, then we will move on to the matters at hand!" shouted Hamuul, as Fandral retained his composure, nodding in agreement.

Another night elven man stepped forward, removing his hood as well. His features were very avian, with his nose looking all-too similar to a beak. "I, Morthis Whisperwing, am here on behalf of the Druids of the Talon, willing to offer my assistance in any way possible."

It was Adarin's turn to step forward as he too removed his hood. "I am Adarin Dreamwalker, survivor of the War of the Ancients, and I dedicate my every breath to the will of Cenarius," he said as he made his way back to the circle.

Another large tauren stepped inside and pulled back his hood. His fur coat was a dark brown and it was blatantly obvious who he was from the scar across his face. "My name is Rahoda Cloudbreaker. Many of you may know me as one of those who aided in the slaying of Princess Theradras and freed Celebras from his corruption deep inside the caverns of Maraudon."

He gave Adarin a slight grin, as they were both part of the party that had felled the elemental monstrosity a few months back. Adarin knew Rahoda rather well in the time that they had spent together. He had heard stories of how he was raised in the wilds by kodo beasts, and even possessed a strange affinity with those creatures. Though he was not sure if any of the rumors were true, he did know that the tauren boasted a very big ego.

The final two robed figures removed their hoods. They were about five feet tall, rather stocky, and clad in fur. Everyone in the room recognized them as furbolgs, but these were no furbolgs that Adarin had known of. The only remaining faction of furbolg that had remained uncorrupted from the coming of the Burning Legion were the Timbermaw, but he had made many trips to their refuge of Timbermaw Hold. It was necessary to travel through their lands while making the journey from his home in Ashenvale to reach Moonglade. Over the course of the ages, Adarin had made pretty good relations with them and yet he could not recognize the pair. These two were not Timbermaw, however, and he was certain of that.

"I am Akida," he growled, removing his dark green hood. His fur was a dark brown, swirled with black spots.

"And I am his younger brother, Guaruu," spoke the figure in the light green robe.

"We have come on behalf of the Stillpine Tribe of the Azuremyst Isles to the west," Akida continued.

With the exception of Hamuul and Fandral, the six other druids, including Adarin, stared at the bear-men in awe not knowing how to accept the recent addition.

"Contrary to what may be believed amongst your kind, we have survived the taint of the recent war that has befallen so many of our people. We come to you seeking a method to heal our brethren alongside the Timbermaw Tribe to restore peace to the furbolg race," Akida finished.

"We will aid you in any way that we can. Though we have just recently been inducted into the Cenarion Circle," Guaruu paused, giving a nod directed towards Hamuul, "our people have been practicing the art of druidism almost as long as the night elves, and I think the druid-nation as a whole benefits by having us as representatives for our kind."

"Very well," interrupted Enron, no longer impressed. "Shall we get down to business then?" Fandral gave him a nod of approval and he continued. "The infestation in Silithus has become increasingly hostile as of late - even more so than usual. They have been gathering around the Scarab Wall and I fear the worst. I have been opted by Commander Mar'alith, the overseer of Silithus, to bring this to the attention of the Cenarion Circle."

"And we understand this," replied Hamuul. "But we are currently trying to delve into the problem with the Nightmare. Malfurion is trapped, and has possibly been made into an Unwaking. These are our biggest concerns now. The evil behind the Scarab Wall is being held at bay with the dragon's protective shield. These mindless insects, the silithid, have no chance of breaking the barrier."

"And that is where you are wrong!" Fandral cut him off, choosing this moment to tell him the information he had gathered from the Grove of the Ancients. "I have spoken with the great Onu, and he feels a strange connection between what lies behind the Scarab Wall and what is affecting the Emerald Dream."

"Does it not at all seem suspicious, that as soon as the Dream is corrupted the Silithid gather in full force? I find it highly unlikely… and I assure you that measures must be taken to dispose of the disgusting insects," Enron argued.

"What exactly are you suggesting that we do?" Hamuul asked, as Fandral raised his head in curiosity.

"I propose that we reassemble the Scepter of the Shifting Sands and abolish the threat that lies behind the Gates of Ahn'Qiraj to deal with the threat head on!" Enron explained.

"What you ask of us is madness!" Fandral shouted. "You dare suggest that we open the Scarab Wall after so many years? Do you not remember the loss we suffered before?"

"This is true, wise Arch-druid. I clearly remember the death of your son, as well as countless others, but the times have changed. Regardless, you are not giving the idea considerable thought. The barrier that was erected by the bronze dragonflight to hold them back is slowly weakening. I am told that it will be less than two cycles of the moon before the magical shield collapses. Would it not be better to take the initiative, especially considering that our numbers are much more vast, and our allies far greater? We must make a preemptive strike, and end this once and for all," argued Enron, as he slipped the Arch Druid a sly grin.

"Hmmm, this complicates things," grumbled Hamuul. "I propose that we distribute our numbers and gather as much information as we can regarding both issues. I will commune with Keeper Remulos to see which is the best action. In the mean time, we should equip ourselves for battle since it would seem that it is inevitable, whether we open the Wall by choice or not."

"I will accompany you as well, Hamuul. This is something that we both must hear if we are to lead our people to battle correctly," Fandral stated, not wishing to be left out of the loop.

"Very well, then. Everyone else, get ready for travel. After the meeting with Remulos we will meet back here to discuss further orders."

--

Conveniently, Adarin had already equipped his attire since he lived so far from Moonglade to begin with. Under his robes he wore a vest and pants crafted of the same black leather. His undershirt was a light green, though slightly darker than the color of his robes, with golden designs all about it. He had the wooden sandals that he had put on the day before, but he eventually realized that he had no weapon. And that was a problem if the events of the days to come were as serious as Fandral and Hamuul had made them out to be. He had somewhat of a solution, however.

Adarin's adoptive father, Clintar Dreamwalker resided in Moonglade. After looking around for him for several minutes, a tauren druid had heard of a man meeting his description sleeping deep within the Stormrage Barrow Dens, at the southeastern tip of Moonglade. He made his way to the location that the tuaren had described and traveled through the twists and turns that were dug out of the ground to form the Barrow Dens.

Eventually he made his way to a room that had several roots protruding from the roof as well as the floor. There were seven night elves in the room. Six were standing and were adorned in some fanciful armor signifying them as the Dreamguard, druids who were assigned to protect the physical bodies of those who had entered the Emerald Dream. The final kaldorei rested on the floor, wearing the same green robe than Adarin now wore.

"He has been turned into an Unwaking…" one of the guards spoke, recognizing who Adarin was and what importance Clintar would have meant to him. "He has been this way for several months now."

A tear dripped from Adarin's face as he reached over to touch the seemingly lifeless body that layed before him. He stroked Clintar's face with his hand and an unbearable pain jolted through his body, dropping him to the floor in an instant.

--

Elsewhere, Hamuul and Fandral had just arrived at the Shrine of Remulos.

"Have you any word on the fate of Malfurion Stormrage?" Hamuul asked.

"I have traversed through the Emerald Dream several times, though I dare not stay for too long due to the risk of becoming an Unwaking, and yet I have not seen any remnant of Malfurion's whereabouts. The Dream is far from the beauty and luster that it once possessed and I fear the worst, my thero'shan." Remulos paused for a minute, trying to gather his thoughts. "I fear that nothing could have survived such a taint, Malfurion included. And worse, I have tried to contact Ysera, and have not been able to locate her as well."

"I have spoken with the woodland spirit Onu. He believes that the events that are transpiring within the Emerald Dream and the collection of the Silithid in southern Silithus are somehow connected," Fandral added.

"I would have to agree on such matters. It would seem that whatever lies beneath Ahn'Qiraj is likely what is causing this taint," Remulos noted.

"We have gathered as much," Hamuul replied. "And we will be taking measures to ensure that we eliminate whatever is causing this. I am sending the Inner Circle out, as soon as this meeting is over, to gather reinforcements in Silithus."

"Also, I would like to note that one of the newest members of the Inner Circle has kin that was once a lieutenant of mine during the war that took place in the dunes to the south a thousand years prior. It is she, alone, that knows the key to reforming the Scepter of the Shifting Sands. I think that it would wise to send Seramar to bring her sister to us in Silithus."

"Agreed. There is also a recommendation I wish to make," Remulos paused, giving himself a second to plan how he should go about wording his next statement. "I understand that both the Alliance and the Horde have had numerous conflicts in the past, but now is not the time for infighting. If we hope to eliminate this threat we must bring the entire might of Kalimdor crashing down upon them. I ask that you send other members of the Inner Circle out to gain allies in this war effort."

"Very well, then," Hamuul agreed, as Fandral, too, nodded in acceptance.

--

Adarin was dreaming. Or so he thought. He looked around for something that was familiar to him and found nothing. He was in the middle of a large forest, yet even the sky was green. As his eyes traveled the skies, something very out of place caught his attention. An enormous golden globe floated high in the sky. The orb was some sort of fluid as it blew about like a wave, seemingly alive.

_Come to me, Adarin Dreamwalker_, called a female voice from within his head.

Adarin could tell that whatever it was that was calling him came from inside the golden globe. He was just about to ask how the mysterious voice planned on him reaching the height of the globe but as he thought it he was lifted from the ground, almost as if he were being pulled toward his destination.

Inside the golden globe was a marvelous spectacle to any mortal eyes. While the outside seemed to be formed of a liquid metal, the inside was a forest even more verdant than the fields below the golden anomaly. The entire orb was filled with thick vines that all traced back to a similar source; a skimply clad female night elf whose eyes were closed. Her long, forest colored hair hung down far below her feet and each individual strand seemed to evolve into vines as they fell below the beautiful female.

She wore little more than a green loin cloth and a matching band of cloth that covered the woman's breasts. The female had a few pieces of jewelry about her body, including a necklace, an ankle bracelet on her right leg, and a ring on one of the fingers of her right hand. All the jewelry, with the exception of the ring - which gave off an impenitrable white light - were crafted almost entirely of emerald.

_Your adoptive father has entered an eternal slumber, not entirely unlike death. Though his body still lives, his spirit is trapped within the expanses of the Emerald Dream. The Great Bear spirit that dwells in the north eastern part of what you call Moonglade will be able to direct you in your quest to free your fathers essence from his shackles within the dream, _the female voice spoke, though her lips did not move.

As she opened her eyes, a great white light surged all around Adarin sending him plummeting back to the forest floor but as he crashed into the ground he had awakened and realized that it was all a dream.

"Are you alright?" one of the guards asked, as he kneeled before Adarin, helping him to his feet.

"I… I'm fine," he replied as he regained his composure and his footing. "I must leave immediately. Thank you for your help."

Adarin exited the Barrow Dens confused and without the weapon that had been the reason he had searched for his father to begin with. He would have to make due without it in the mean time. He had to return to meet with Fandral and Hamuul to discuss the plans involving the two-sided threat that would soon be coming to fruition.

--

When he returned most of the others had already arrived. In fact, only two were not yet present; Enron and Seramar. Fandral stepped forth and cleared his throat.

"Now that you are all here. I have sent Seramar, and Enron to accompany her, to Darnassus to find her twin sister. It was she who was entrusted by Anachronos with the location of the Scepter of the Shifting Sands nearly a thousand years ago," Fandral said.

"We have spoken with Keeper Remulos. With the Cenarion Circle being neutral in the petty conflict between the Horde and the Alliance, we are in a prime position to gather allies. Fandral and I will be heading to Silithus to prepare for the war-effort. We have paired each of you to travel to various locations for diplomatic reasons," Hamuul continued.

"Adarin and Rahoda, you will be traveling to the Stonetalon Mountains to speak with Keeper Albagorm and gather his forces to mobilize," Fandral ordered.

"Morthis and Guaruu, I ask that you travel to Theramore at the eastern-most tip of Dustwallow Marsh. We are definitely going to need Lady Jaina Proudmoore's support in the coming conlict," Hamuul added.

"Akida and Bashana, you are to head to Orgrimmar to do the exact same thing there. Make sure that you speak to Thrall directly. Most of the Horde would have little to do with anything Alliance related but he has a long standing relationship with the humans of Theramore, Jaina in perticular, and he may show more sympathy for the cause than the average orc," Fandral said. "After that, we will all gather in Silithus and prepare the settlement for the arrival of our allies."

The eight remaining members of the Inner Circle went their separate ways. As Adarin and Rahoda walked towards the tunnels of Timbermaw Hold. They had quite the journey ahead of them.

"It will take at least two days to get through Felwood, assuming everything goes according to plan," Rahoda explained. "The trip through Ashenvale shouldn't be as bad, and we could even take a reprieve Astranaar."

"And from there, all we have to do is cut through Talondeep Path and we shouldn't be more than a days travel from Stonetalon Peak," Adarin said, mentally preparing for the journey ahead.

As the two discussed their planned route, Hamuul shouted for the pair to stop. He rushed to them, taking no time to catch his breath.

"I have been thinking about what we talked about, Adarin," Hamuul explained. "While I am not too sure what the dreams may mean, I believe that I can point you in the right direction. Chieftan Meilosh of the Timbermaw Furbolg has an affinity with understand dreams. His connection with the Emerald Dream, in particular, is uncanny. Perhaps he may be able to aid you in your personal quest."


	3. Tainted Lands

The Timbermaw furbolg were very accepting of Adarin and Rahoda, as expected since they both spent much time in the adjacent region of Moonglade. They had been traveling through the corridors of Timbermaw Hold for nearly a half hour when their guide signaled them towards the chamber they had been waiting outside of.

"The Chieftain will see you now," the furbolg growled, motioning towards the hallway behind him. Adarin gave the bear-man a slight nod as the pair walked past him. They entered the room, both meeting the gaze of Chieftain Meilosh, though Rahoda had to crouch just to fit in the room, which was even larger, still, than the corridors that lead to it.

The white furbolg wore little more than a loin cloth, as furbolg tended to not wear much clothing to begin with. He did, however, sport a rather intricate necklace decorated with long black feathers encompassing his entire neck. Between each feather was a tooth, probably some sort of trophy, and beads that separated the feathers from the teeth.

"Hamuul has already informed me that he is gathering troops in southern Kalimdor," the chieftain explained. "What, then, is your purpose here?"

"I understand but that is not why we have requested your audience," Adarin answered. "I had spoken with Hamuul. I've been having these strange dreams lately and he said that you may be able to help me."

"Explain…" the chieftain grumbled.

Adarin reenacted the dream from earlier that morning, and many mornings before that.

"The War of the Ancients? Curious… and you say that you cannot remember anything past the events in those caves?"

"Not exactly. I can remember bits and pieces but most of it is unknown to me. I vaguely remember playing with a young night elf girl but after that, nothing! The next thing I remember is waking up in a temple in Un'Goro Crater. I was discovered by my adoptive father and his close friend during the War of the Shifting Sands nearly a thousand years ago. At first, I couldn't remember anything but over time I was able to piece together the events leading up to the cave, but for the most part, there is a nine thousand year gap in my memory." Adarin thought for a moment, looking over to Rahoda when he realized that he had not spoken a word since their arrival in Chieftain Meilosh's chambers. He continued, "I was heading to speak with my father earlier today. He was supposed to be digging around the Emerald Dream looking for any hits of my mysterious disappearance but when I had arrived there, he had been made into an Unwaking.

"Very interesting. I can understand why you would not travel to the Dream yourself. These are very dangerous days, Adarin." He let the thought roll around in Adarin's mind for a while.

"How did you know my name?" he asked, when he finally realized what he had said.

"I know a lot of things, night elf. Now, out of curiosity, you've had nearly a thousand years to try to get to the bottom of this. Why now?"

"To be honest, I spent most of the time piecing the story together and it wasn't until recently that I began having these visions in my sleep. I went to my father a little more than a week ago, seeking help, and then all this happened."

"And so you think this is all connected?" the chieftain asked rhetorically. "The spirit of Ursol, who spends much of his time in Moonglade, passes through here quite often on his quest to cleanse Felwood of its taint. While passing, it is not uncommon for him to stop and talk to us, especially the children. He has a fondness for our young, you see. I have heard him tell many tales of the Unwaking and as I'm sure your aware, he has much knowledge of the War of the Ancients from firsthand experience. I cannot tell you much more than that but I do know that he passed through here many moons ago and has not yet made the return trip. Perhaps he could better point you in the right direction," Meilosh noted.

Adarin thanked the chieftain for his time and him and Rahoda continued on their journey through Timbermaw Hold.

---

They exited the south-western end of the tunnel a while later and found themselves overlooking a village of furbolg to the west. Experience told both Adarin and Rahoda that these furbolg had been tainted by the Burning Legion along with the rest of the region. Even the lakes of the area seemed to emanate the same evil that brought this destruction to these lands.

"This disgusts me," Rahoda said. "Without even lifting so much as an axe, the Burning Legion has defiled this land and the damage will probably never be completely healed."

"It's a shame, really," added Adarin. "Not that it's any of my business but I noticed that you were offly quiet back there. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I was just thinking about your situation is all. I may be able to help, though I'm not sure if it will do much good. I'm sure you've noticed by now that I have an abnormal affininity with the natural world, even more so than the average druid."

"So I've heard, but to be honest I was beginning to think it was all rumors."

The two continued to journey south through the befouled lands of Felwood.

"The reason for the mysterious connection is unknown to me, but I've noticed over time that I can sense the spirits of the wild. They speak to me and I may be able to locate the spirit of Ursol, though these lands are so tainted it may interfere with the link."

"I don't suppose it would cause any harm to attempt it, right?" Adarin asked, quizzically.

"I don't believe so, though anything is possible with the condition this place is in. I can even feel the corruption in the soil…" explained a worried Rahoda. "It is worth a shot though." Rahoda crouched to the ground and dug his fingers into the soil. He grasped it and lifted it into the air, closing his eyes in the process. He released his grip when the wind began to pick up. As he opened his eyes, Adarin noted that they were a pale white. The wind caught the soil and carried it towards the southwest.

"Come…" was all that the tauren said, as he began to follow the soil in the direction it was blown.

---

The pair had traveled for a little more than a day and yet Rahoda never said a word or even broke pace. His eyes remained a glossy white and just as quickly as it washed over him, the mysterious trance was gone. His pupils returned to the brown they were naturally.

"We are near," he explained.

"Praise Elune. The silence was driving me insane. And I think someone was following us," Adarin explained. "I'm not positive. It could have been my mind playing tricks on me."

"More than likely, Adarin. These woods have a way of doing that, especially when one has no one to talk to," Rahoda answered.

"So how far are we from the bear spirit?"

"I am not sure. It's not an exact science, old friend. The natural world reveres patience."

It took the two another half hour or so to find a suspicious-looking camp. There were dozens of large logs that were apparently used as the backbone for a lean-to. Two posts stood in front of each of the logs, with a leather tarp stretch from the posts to the top of the log. Several of these lean-to's were arranged in circles around a bonfire, others were off to the side of the main camp. Adarin and Rahoda, both, recognized the village that was before them.

"Deadwood Village…" Adarin thought out loud. Both Rahoda and Adarin had been here before, albeit on separate occasions. The Timbermaw tribe has been in a civil war with the Deadwood tribe since the end of the Third War. When the land was tainted, so was most of the natural fauna, and as such it is customary for druids to practice diplomatic relations with the Timbermaw furbolgs and eliminate these perversions of nature that continue to befoul the land. Despite all efforts, however, they continue to return in great numbers further rooting the corruption of the aptly named Felwood.

"Adarin, over there..." Rahoda was pointing to a large, green metallic crate that looked very much out of place in the primitive encampment. It was covered in sigils from top to bottom. Upon closer inspection, the translucent form of a bear could be seen.

"Ursol!" Adarin confirmed. "He's been captured."

There were dozens of Deadwood furbolg surrounding the cage, each wielding some sort of totem. It was crafted of an unknown charred wood, shaped much like a cross, the symbol of the Holy Light, though there was likely no connection whatsoever. Over the top half, the skull of a bear, even blacker than the wood itself, hung. The furbolg were dancing around the cage, chanting in a language neither of them could understand, likely a dialect of their native tongue.

"We will have to be quick about this. The only thing we have on them is the element of surprise," Rahoda explained, quietly.

"I didn't have the chance to retrieve my weapon when we left Nighthaven the other day. I'm unarmed!" Adarin admitted, mildly ashamed.

"Not a problem." Rahoda snuck, as quietly as a tauren could sneak, towards a furbolg who was not participating in the ceremony. He removed one of his very strange looking daggers from his belt. Really, they looked more like teeth than a dagger but they seemed to have some sentimental value to the mighty tauren. Adarin found it more odd that such a large creature as a tauren would even be using the small weapons in the first place.

He crept up behind the lone furbolg, covered his mouth, and slit his throat using the dagger-tooth. He removed a bow from the felled creatures back and threw it to Adarin, followed by a quiver containing a dozen arrows. Adarin hadn't used a bow in a long time, not since the War of the Ancients, but he would have to use each arrow wisely if he wanted to walk out of this adventure alive.

Turning their attention back to the dancing furbolg, Adarin again realized how severely outnumbered they were. _This should be interesting_, he thought to himself. Without any hesitation at all, Adarin knocked an arrow and sent it flying towards an unsuspecting furbolg. It landed right in the back of its skull, alerting the others to their presence.

Instinctively, Rahoda launched his makeshift dagger towards the first bear-man who charged towards them, burying it deep in the beasts chest, severing the connection between its heart and its other vital organs. Before his target even hit the ground, the he ran towards the dying furbolg.

Adarin let another arrow loose, focused on one of the Deadwood trying to intercept Rahodas path and hit it in the knee, bringing it to the ground. _I still got it_, the night elf said to himself as he knocked another arrow ready for fire. He scanned the area, looking for his most vulnerable enemy.

As another furbolg closed the gap between itself and Rahoda, he spun around and split his assailants neck. He reached into his belt and unsheathed his other dagger-tooth, as two more of the bear-men tackled him from behind. One of which sank its teeth into Rahodas neck.

Adarin had found his target. He released another arrow, again towards the beasts head, narrowly missing his comrades own head in the process. With the odds stacked against them, neither could afford to lose each other, and so Adarin put the bow over his shoulder and charged into the fray. He noticed that most of the bear-men were still focused on the spirit of Ursol and were completely ignoring the battle all together. They chanted and danced around as if nothing were happening.

During his fall, Rahoda had lost his grip on the one dagger that he held in his right hand. He still had the other one, and though he didn't have the greatest maneuverability with his left arm at the moment, he thrusted it towards the feral creatures side as it clawed at his back. He aimed for one of the creatures lungs and he knew struck home when he heard the beast gasping for air. Rahoda quickly brought himself back to his feet, retrieving his lost dagger as he did so.

By the time Adarin had made his way to the main fight, a wild animal had taken his place. In his bear form, he lunged towards one of the prone furbolg that were dancing around the cage and raked at its face, nearly taking it off in the process. He gained the attention of several more of the bear-men, though most of them still acted as if they didn't notice the bout. He wondered what they were up to but didn't have much time to think about it as three more furbolg came baring down on him. One thwacked him on the head with its totem, and another sent an arrow his way, piercing him in his right hind leg.

Rahoda reached to the ground and placed his hand on the soil, asking the wilds for their help. He attempted to summon some roots to pin down a few of the furbolg surrounding Adarin but there was no reply. Two more furbolg came at him, one from each side, and he quickly ended both of their lives. He jammed a dagger in one of their temples and, without even spinning around, caught the other in the jaw only to be pinned down by a third furbolg that he never saw coming. This time, however, he dropped both of his daggers.

Adarin was surrounded and now his back-right leg burned from the arrow that he could not remove. He swatted one of the furbolg away but he couldn't muster up enough strength to do any real damage. The other two jumped on top of him and though Adarin couldn't see a thing, he did hear many quick steps coming from behind him, followed by the sound of grinding metal. He assumed the worst as he was overtaken by warmth and blood sprayed all over the landscape.

The furbolg fell off of Adarin's back and fell onto the ground beside him. They didn't make a sound.

By the time Adarin could look back to see what had happened, there was nothing there but two headless furbolg on the ground. The third was farther away but te ground around it was similarly covered in blood from a large gouge in the beasts throat.

A cloaked figure stood over the body, holding a long curved sword. The mysterious warrior was facing the direction that Rahoda was in. He was still pinned to the ground with the furbolg now knawing into his side as blood leaked from the wound. The tauren clenched the earth beneath him, screaming in agony, and the cloaked figure dashed towards the final furbolg that was focused on the fight. It kicked the beast in its nose, sending it flying a few feet from Rahodas limp body. It jumped over the tauren and drove the sword right through the beasts chest. The figure then snapped the sword to its side, cleaning the blood from it, and placed it back in its sheath.

The figure turned its attention toward the dozen or so remaining furbolg, still dancing wildly around the cage and waving their totems in a ritualistic manner. It thrusted its right arm in their direction as several balls of fire erupted from the figures palm, crashing into many of the preoccupied bear-men. Their mysterious savior then raised its hand to the sky and when it dropped, so did lightning from the sky killing all but one of the remaining furbolg.

The last furbolg was still focused on the cage at that point, completely oblivious to the butt end of the sword that was rammed into its skull. The entity stood over the last remaining survivor of the Deadwood tribe with his blade poked towards the beasts throat.

"Tell me. Why do you not only deface a land that is your own, but a deity that made you in his image?" the figure asked. It was apparently a 'he' and his voice was extremely raspy and he pressed the end of the blade a little deeper into the throat to taunt the creature. It laughed in return.

"Why does not matter," the furbolg gargled. "What's done is done." Its laughed turned into a maniacal cackle as their savior ended the furbolgs life.

They could still not make out who their hero was but they both watched him from behind as he aligned his palms on the wards that were placed on the cage. Each time a ward broke there was a loud sound that echoed throughout the area. The creature turned to them, still not proving one hint of a clue as to who he was. His cowl shrouded his entire identity.

"Run," he said. "There's a camp to the east of here. I'm sure your familiar with it." And they were. Emerald Sanctuary it was called. Some of the greatest healers in kaldorei history were positioned their trying to cure Felwood of its corruption.

Adarin had regained enough strength at this point to shapeshift back into his night elven form but his wounds remained in the same approximate areas. There was an arrow wedged into the back of his thigh, which he painfully removed. He had quite the lump on his head and his back was torn up, as well, adding to his discomfort. He could barely move.

Rahoda had a nice gouge in his side from the furbolgs bite and another one in his neck, though it wasn't as severe. Despite all that, he was able to get to his feet and pull a small leaf from his pouch that he strapped to his belt. He crushed it in his palm and he rubbed it into his wounds. The neck healed almost instantly but the side had only healed a little bit, though it would continue to do so over time. He rushed towards a limp Adarin and threw him over his shoulder.

By that time, the mysterious figure had unlocked all of the magical sigils on the cage. The door to the cage creaked open and the bear spirit roared mightily. It leaped from the cage, though this wasn't the Ursol that any of them had been familiar with. He was a perversion of what he once was. His flesh had returned to him and he was no longer of the spirit world. He was a dark brown and though some of his skin and organs had returned, not all had, giving him a rotten appearance.

"What have you done, my cousins?" was the last thing Rahoda heard the cloaked figure say as he ran for his life. He heard loud shouts and roars from behind him but he kept on running. Adarin was right. Something was following them and whoever it was hadn't come to their aid at a better time, albeit in complete secrecy. Several more thoughts ran through the taurens mind as he ran at full speed for the Emerald Sanctuary.

---

When Rahoda awoke the next morning, he placed some of the salve on his wound that Greta Mosshoof, the expeditions botanist, had given him. It had really helped to mend his wounds for the most part. Even Adarin, who was still sleeping at the time, had healed most of his injuries. Rahoda nudged his friend to awaken him.

"What did they do to him?" Adarin asked, though his words were barely audible. "What did they do to Ursol?"

"It would appear that they were trying to use him for their own nefarious ends," Rahoda answered, though truthfully he didn't know for sure.

Adarin pushed himself to the end of the bed, still trying to wake himself up. They took a little less than an hour to get ready and made their way towards the shops that the Emerald Sanctuary had to offer. Adarin got some more arrows and even managed to find a staff that was to his liking. Rahoda bought himself a large warhammer and even a few reagents that he would need for some of his spells. They both spent about an hour crafting something, out of leather, to carry their new weapons in.

When they finished, they headed south towards Astranaar. Adarin and Rahoda both shapeshifted into their feline forms; a nightsaber and a horned lion respectively. They dashed at great speeds, trying to recover the time that they had wasted because of their injuries.


	4. Scaling Stonetalon

"I told you that someone was following us," Adarin noted as he pounced over some sort of berry bush in the forests of Ashenvale. "I'm not sure how, my friend, but I just knew."

"Who do you suppose he was?" asked Rahoda, as both of the druids stopped to catch their breaths.

It had been nearly a day's travel from the Emerald Sanctuary in Felwood. They had already traveled through Astranaar and were about half way between there and Talondeep path, the small cave system that connected Ashenvale to the Stonetalon Mountains. The nightsaber and horned lion, Adarin and Rahoda respectively, approached the edge of a lake and drank from its fount.

"I'm not sure. But I'm getting tired of all these questions," the nightsaber snarled.

"Like why he was following us in the first place?" added Rahoda.

"Exactly. At any rate, I'm thankful he did. We'd both probably be dead now if he wasn't." There was a momentary silence. "It pains me to think that Felwood was once a part of this same forest before the Burning Legion came," Adarin said, changing the subject. "Even the water throughout the entire area was devoid of life. It was a brighter green than any leaf I have ever seen, and it seemed to glow."

"It isn't natural," Rahoda explained.

Adarin kept drinking from the lake but Rahoda shapeshifted back into his natural tauren form and walked towards the bush that Adarin had leaped over. He picked some of the berries from the bulbous shrub and put them into his pouch.

"It makes one appreciate life all the more," Rahoda added. "Like these Ash Berries. This is the only place in all of Kalimdor that they grow. They use to grow as far north as Timbermaw Hold, but the Burning Legion put an end to that…"

"And now, even Ursol's own children are draining the last bit of life from the land," the nightsaber growled. He transformed back into his elven body and walked over to Rahoda. "There has to be something we can do to fix whatever it is that they did to Ursol. Meilosh said that he could help make sense of things and I fear that the bear spirit is the only way I will get my questions answered."

As the two began to head south again, they continued on towards Talondeep Path. Though they planned to travel through the small cave system, by the time they had arrived the tunnel had been caved in.

"What do you think happened?" Adarin asked.

"I am not sure." Rahoda bent over to inspect the rubble. There were several large footprints marking the land around the would-be cave entrance. "But whatever it was, this is no natural landslide. Someone or _something _caused this!"

"Well we have to move on. We don't have time to double back and head through the Barrens."

"I have an idea. If my memory serves correct, there should be another path due west, though it is nothing like this one and it is very rugged terrain. It should take us directly to the mountains peak."

"Well, west it is then."

--

When they arrived at the area that Rahoda was referring too, there was no path in sight. There was, however, a large misshapen boulder that looked oddly out of place.

"How are we supposed to get up there? It's too steep. Theres now way…" Adarin was cut off.

Just then the ground began to quake and the trees began to shake. The boulder came to life as it exploded. Certain fragments became arms, others became legs, and in less than a minute a massive mountain giant stood before them. It shook itself clean of debris, though much of the moss that was attached to it held strong, and focused its attention on the companions. The giant reared its head over the trees and the earth shook under its feet as it gained its footing. Its eyes never left Adarin and Rahoda, though it viewed them as no threat. It lowered its stony visage to meet their gaze, eye to eye, holding itself up with its right forearm carrying most of its weight.

"Who has disturbed my slumber?" it asked, in a voice that rumbled like earthquake. Adarin looked to Rahoda, unsure of what to do.

"I am Rahoda Cloudbreaker and this is Adarin Dreamwalker," he said, pointing to the night elf. "We seek passage to the peak of Stonetalon. The way through Talondeep Path has been blocked and we don't have the time to travel around to the base of the mountain in the Barrens."

"Patience is a virtue, Rahoda Cloudbreaker. I suppose I should teach you that lesson." Adarin interrupted the two of them at that point.

"I understand the value of patience, wise one," he added, giving an attempt at flattery. "And though we do not have time to explain it better, Kalimdor is in great peril. We need to get to Stonetalon to ask for the assistance of Keeper Albagorm. Please, wise one, we would not have disturbed you were it not important."

The giant rose back to its full height, stroking its chin. The sound of stones grinding together was all Adarin could hear, aside from the birds native to the region.

"Albagorm, you say?" It has been weeks since I last spoke to him. You know, it was he who assigned me to keep watch over this path. You must understand, the Greenskins," it said, referring to the orcs that had set up camp in eastern Ashenvale, "that befoul our land have become even more hostile as of late. We cannot let them cross the border into Stonetalon. That is why we, personally, collapsed the tunnel called Talondeep Path – to prevent them from escaping!"

"That you was you? And what do you mean _we_?" asked Adarin. "I see no more of your kind, mountain giant."

"And why can't you let them cross the border?" Rahoda interrogated.

"My kin are hidden among you even now. There are more of us at the path leading into the Barrens though I am unsure if the orcs in question are affiliated with the Horde – you can never tell these days – though we believe at least some of them are from Splintertree Post. Several night elf children were taken during the night about a week ago. Albagorm ordered us to keep watch, to make sure that no person left Ashenvale without first being questioned."

"We have nothing to hide," Adarin admitted.

"Have you seen anything suspicious since coming into Ashenvale?" the mountain giant asked.

"Not since we came but we did have a rather strange encounter with some of the furbolg in Felwood," Rahoda explained.

"That is not the least bit strange. The furbolg have all gone mad save for the Timbermaw," the mountain giant rumbled.

"Not entirely true. We have recently allied with a group of Furbolg who come from the islands to the west of Kalimdor. They appear to remain untainted as well." Adarin realized he was getting off topic. "More importantly, though, we were searching for the spirit of Ursol, who the Timbermaw had said they hadn't seen in days." He explained the rest of the story leaving out the bits about the mysterious figure that had saved them. "But what came out of the cage was not Ursol. It was a perversion of nature."

"Eventually we were overpowered," Rahoda added. " We have no choice but to run."

"Naturally. I doubt you would have done much damage to the demigod anyway. And that's why you wish to speak to Albagorm?" it asked.

"Yes," Rahoda lied, figuring it would be better not to waste more time.

"Very well then. You may proceed." They started to walk up the mountain pass but were blocked by the giants large stone arms. "They call me Rockbiter, by the way. Please tell Albagorm that we are yet to find any of the children, if you will." The pair nodded in agreement and were on their way.

--

The incline was very steep and the side of the mountain very jagged. All of the traveling had exhausted the companions out. Night was approaching fast and the two friends decided to set up camp about half way up the mountain. It was a cold night so they prepared a fire and they both laid down not far from its flames.

Adarin rested his head on a blanket that he had rolled up and Rahoda had done the same, though he had long since fallen asleep. Adarin, on the other hand, stared up at the stars, wondering if he would dream the same dream again that ngiht. All he wanted was answers and every time he thought he was about to get one something would always happen to prevent him from getting any.

A distant scream pierced his thoughts. He sat up quickly and looked at Rahoda to see if the sound had awoken him. It had not. It was the unmistakable scream of a frightened child – a female most likely. Too high pitched to be an adult and not deep enough to be a male. He could tell that it came from the east and down the mountain a good bit. If he left now, he thought he could cut them off on their way up. He wondered if he should wake up Rahoda, but decided against it, thinking he would make better time alone.

He shapeshifted into his nightsaber form and dashed towards the direction of the scream, wondering how they had slipped past the mountain giants. Apparently, the mountain giants that guarded Ashenvale had not been as good at monitoring its borders as Rockbiter believed.

He traveled for less than an hour and, eventually, caught the scent of wood burning. A few more minute and he could see a fire in the distance, and hear what sounded like muffled screams.

Adarin crept through the brush and a small camp came into view. There were four tents around the fire. Adarin assumed each tent could house two orcs comfortably. Outside the tents was a male orc – because it was much too bulky to be a female - who sat against one of the trees that were between the tents. Next to him was a large cage that looked nearly identical to the one that held Ursol a few days earlier.

Adarin had expected to find night elf children but that was not the case. There _were_ three young night elves but there were also four young orcs in the same cage, all of them gagged. _Something bigger was going on here than Albagorm and Rockbiter realized_, he thought. _Why would the orcs kidnap their own?_

Adarin took the form of a night elf once more. He eased his way toward the camp, trying not to alarm the guard, or the children for that matter, but upon closer inspection he realized that the orc was taking a nap. He removed his staff from its leather strap on his back and used his affinity with the night – an ability that the night elves called Shadow Melding that gave their body the translucent appearance of a shadow – to sneak right past the sleeping guard.

He hid behind the tree that the orc leaned on and, holding his staff in one hand, he wrapped his arms around the tree, carefully avoiding to wake the orc just yet. He grabbed the other end of the weapon and jerked it towards the orcs neck, pinning him between staff and tree. Adarin's body no longer looked like a shadow but it mattered little now. The orc grabbed at his throat and his eyes bulged out of his head. He groaned, then gagged, for a minute or two before he fell to the ground. Adarin searched his limp body for a way to free the children, but found nothing.

When the kids realized that he was trying to free them, they became excited and started shaking the cage. He placed a finger to his lips, signaling them to be quiet as he recalled how the last cage, eerily similar to this one, had been opened; their savior had placed his palm on the sigils that covered it.

He was unsure of how it worked but he tried it anyway, placing his right hand on one of the runes. Nothing happened. He tried different ones, thinking that maybe there was a specific order to unlock it, but again and again and again, nothing happened.

He heard a rustling of leaves behind him but by the time he spun around to investigate it was already too late. He expected to find another orc standing there but that was not the case and what he did see confused him greatly. A male human.

Adarin knew that relations between the Horde and the Alliance had been improving over the last few years but orcs and humans were different. Their blood feud had been instilled in them for generations and despite the friendship between Thrall and Jaina Proudmoore, the orc warcief and the leader of the human settlement on Kalimdor respectively, that hatred had not been stopped. They would never ally with one another willingly and even very seldom would they do so even when ordered. That was the whole reason for the line that still divided the Alliance and the Horde, after all.

The human wore a simple plate-mail armor and Adarin recognized the emblem of Stormwind, a lion, on his right pouldron. He drew a broadsword and shouted to the others sleeping in the tents. There was about a fifteen foot distance between Adarin and the human and as he closed the gap, Adarin gave one last shot at opening the cage. Foolishly Adarin closed his eyes and blocked out everything.

He pictured each of the runes opening in his mind's eye and paid the charging human no mind. He concentrated every sense he could on breaking the wards and freeing the helpless children. He placed both his hands, this time, on different sigils and felt a tingle on each of his fingertips. He could hear the screams of not just the human, but the others charging for him as well. He could see the look of sheer terror on the faces of the seven children stuffed inside cage, though his eyes were actually closed. He could smell the stench of the kids, who likely hadn't been bathed since they were taken from their homes and he could taste the sweat dripping from his forehead, as it ran across his lips. He screamed and the enchantments on the cage ceased to be and so he didn't even notice Rahoda pouncing from the bushes in the form of a horned lion and onto one of the kidnappers.

Adarin opened his eyes and turned his attention toward the human, not a moment too soon, as he swung the broadsword down from overhead. He used one end of his staff to catch the blade, quickly sidestepped, and smashed the other end into the humans temple, knocking him to the ground. He looked towards the kids. "Stay put. I'll deal with them and then get you guys out of here."

He looked up as two more of the six remaining kidnappers dashed towards him; one a female orc wielding a double edged axe, the other a male night elf knocking an arrow into his bow. He, then, noticed Rahoda who had already dealt with another human who was laying on the ground with his throat torn out. He was now dealing with a similarly odd pair; a male tauren Now he focused on anwas wielding a small hammer and a female gnome with two daggers who disappeared as soon as she entered the battle.

The night elf released his arrow and would have hit Adarin had he not charged towards the female orc at just that moment. He tried to ram her in the stomach with the tip of his staff but he misjudged the distance and the female booted him to the ground. She raised her axe, two handed, high into the air and brought it down towards his midsection but he rolled out of the way in the nick of time. The axe dug into the earth and Adarin closed his eyes to ask nature for its help. Before she could even pull her axe free, three large roots burst forth from the dirt. One grabbed her ankle and held her in place while the others grabbed her by the wrists, pulling her to the ground. Another arrow surged towards him and he couldn't get to his feet before it pierced his side. He screamed as he tore it out but fought through the pain and brought himself to his feet.

Rahoda was not faring so well either. He had managed to dodge a bolt of lightning that the other tauren, who was obviously a shaman, had hurled at him but could not get close enough to do any serious damage. He dodged another lightning bolt and dashed towards him. The shaman bounced out of the way and a mound of earth rose up from the ground and slammed directly into Rahoda. When he got back to his feet he shapeshifted back into his tauren form, grabbed the warhammer from his back and launched it at his opponent. It crashed into his face and the shaman was dead. He ran to pick it up and the, who had been hiding this whole time, jumped from one of the trees and jammed both daggers into Rahodas back.

Again, Adarin asked nature for its aid. Three small trees uprooted themselves and ran to Adarins rescue. From the darkness, beside one of the tents, a ball of fire illuminated the face of a decaying man. It scorched the air between the undead man and one of the treants, exploding it on impact. The two remaining treants hurled balls of green energy from their arms, which were quite literally limbs, towards the undead though all it did was prevent him from having enough time to charge up another fireball. With the undead occupied and the orc tied down, Adarin was able to focus on the night elf, who was already firing another arrow at him. The druid was hunched over, with his left hand holding the injury on his right side. He raised his other hand and, with his palm flat and his fingers spread, he unleashed the same green ball of energy that the treants had used. The spell was one of the most basic ones a druid had in his arsenal, though it could be very powerful if timed correctly. It was called Natures Wrath and it did exactly that – channeled Elunes anger into a ball of physical energy. His target was so focused on firing the arrow that he didn't even realize what had happened until it was too late. The Wrath spell incinerated the arrow and crashed into the night elfs chest, sending him flying into a tree. He fell to the ground unconscious.

Meanwhile, Rahoda reached for the gnome on his back, grabbed her by her long pink hair, and threw her over his shoulder. As he did that, however, she refused to release her grip on her daggers and they were torn from his back. He was in a lot of pain but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of a scream. She was thrown in the direction of a tree but managed to flip her feet towards the trunk and she rebounded back towards Rahoda with her daggers aimed at his chest, without once ever touching the ground. He quickly drew his kodo blades, one pointed up and the other pointed down – a good defensive position – and the two locked weapons momentarily. The gnome flipped over his shoulders and only then landed on her feet. The two spun to face each other. Rahoda swung the inverted dagger downwards and the taurens superior reach landed a fatal blow to the side of her throat. She choked on her blood as he turned his attention on the undead mage fighting the treants. Rahoda sheathed his daggers and grabbed the warhammer, that still layed on the ground near the dead tauren, and charged for the mage.

Elsewhere, the roots that Adarin had summoned had finally failed and the female orc was released. She swiped her axe at Adarin's left side but he sidestepped to the right and smacked her on the side of the head with the end of his staff. He spun the weapon and tried to bring the other end down on the orcs skull but she blocked it with the flat end of her axe. She took the offensive, now, and smacked Adarin, similarly, in the head with the butt end of the her weapon. He stumbled back and the orc tackled him to the ground. The two rolled down the mountain for a second until they slowed to a stop. The female was on top, but both of them had dropped their weapons a few feet away. She punched Adarin in the face and ran up the hill for her axe. Adarin, badly injured, thrusted his hand toward the woman and a thin line of moonlight fell from the sky and pierced her chest. He stood up and held his stomach as he walked towards his staff and, even though he was in a great deal of pain, he ran after his companion.

Rahoda was squaring off with the undead man and when the mage notived Adarin approaching, he looked at Rahoda and fired one last fireball at him. The tauren managed to doge it again, but the decaying man just stood there, laughing at them.

"It seems you have won this round but we three will meet again… The Day of Reckoning is at hand." And with that said, there was an explosion of white light. The orb of light caved in on itself and there was no one left on the mountainside, save for Adarin, Rahoda, the children, and the dead bodies of seven peculiar allies.

Adarin walked over to the kids and released them from their prison. He removed their restraints and gags and began to question them. Rahoda tended his wounds, applying some of the salve that he had crafted a few days prior to his back where he could reach.

"They don't know why they were taken," he said to Rahoda.

"Here," he said, handing the same salve to Adarin. "Not suprising. Most people usually don't divulge their master plans," he laughed as he strapped his warhammer on his back.

"I figured as much, but I thought they might have heard something," he said, applying the salve that quickly healed his wound within minutes.

The two informed the kids that they were going to be taken to the mountain top to be left in the custody of Keeper Albagorm. "You'll be safe there, until you are taken back to your homes," Adarin added.

"We should probably stay here for the night and move out in the morning," Rahoda suggested.

"Agreed. Is that okay with you guys?"

The kids nodded in agreement, excited to be free more than anything else. They all ran into the tents hoping to find something to wash up with and eventually lay their heads down to rest. As Adarin and Rahoda were about to do the same, they simultaneously had an uneasy feeling of being watch. They turned to witness a shrouded figure standing on the other end of the fire. Instantly, Adarin and Rahoda recognized the figure as the same one who had saved them in Felwood and he began to clap very slowly.

"I must say… I am impressed. The last time we met I believe the battles outcome was not so favorable."

"Who are you and what do you want with us?" Adarin asked, confused.

"I mean you no harm Adarin Dreamwalker. That is what you go by, isn't it?" When he got no answer, he continued anyway. "I suppose you're wondering why I didn't help you in the battle this time, eh?" Rahoda nodded. "Well, I think I've helped you enough recently. When have you ever helped me?" he laughed. "No matter. I wanted to see if you were capable of handling yourselves on your own, if you must know."

"You didn't answer either of my questions. And how do you know my name?" Adarin interrupted, getting impatient.

"Very well then. It is _you_ that I want Adarin Dreamwalker. And for the record, I know a lot about you Adarin. Far more than your name…" He was quiet for a while. "Even more than you seem to know at this point." He laughed again. "My name is Jin'tao of the Stormstout clan, though you may simply call me Jin."

He removed his hood at that point. He looked very much like one of the furbolg, though his furcoat was black and white and his features were more defined, more humanlike. He had patches of black around his eyes and, in particular, the right one had a long scar that crossed over it and down to his cheek. The eye, itself, was gray and did not seem to be working any longer.

"I have been searching for you for a long time, Adarin Dreamwalker."

"What did you do with Ursol?" Rahoda changed the subject.

"I tried to free him from the corruption that my cousins have bled into him."

"Your cousins?" Adarin asked.

"It's a long story but my people and theirs share a common ancestor." He sat down by the fire and crossed his legs. "In ancient times, Ursol tried to teach their children a more civilized way of life. My people listened to him, and, what you call, the furbolg chose to stand by Ursoc, his twin brother. Well, Ursoc was much more savage by nature and so the furbolg continued to live in an uncivilized way. On the other end, Ursol taught my people the values of shamanism and a love of ale. Through those values, we thrive as a people. Though I am forbidden to tell you where, exactly."

"You're a pandaren?" Rahoda asked, and when Jin'tao nodded in response, he added "I have heard of your people and your homeland, Pandaria, though I believed them to be nothing more than a fable."

"I assure you that that is not the case," he said, looking himself up and down.

"So it would seem," Adarin added.

"Anyway, when I freed Ursol from his imprisonment the damage had already been done. I tried to heal him in any way that I could, but I must admit; I, myself, am no shaman. I could not slay him and in the end, I could do little more than either of you could… So I ran. Regardless, it is imperative that you come with me immediately, Adarin Dreamwalker," the pandaren motioned for the both of them to follow him.

"We have more pressing matters to deal with," said Rahoda, grabbing Adarin's arm as the night elf began to walk towards the pandaren. "What about the children? We can't just leave them here!"

"I assure you that all your roads will cross at one point. Rahoda, why don't you take them to the peak of the mountain, and I will have Adarin meet you there in a few days."

"He's right," Adarin said, referring to Rahoda. "We have to go to Keeper Albagorm and explain to him everything that's going on."

"Which is something that I think your friend here can handle on his own." Jin'tao rebutted.

"And I have so many questions," Adarin explained, trying to rationalize.

"All in time, my friend… All in time."

--

By morning Adarin and Jin'tao were long gone and Rahoda was not all too thrilled about acting as baby sitter all by himself. He had tried to convince him but he realized that his efforts were futile. With his father gone, the only thing that has driven him has been his quest for answers and even a close friend such as Rahoda couldn't get in the way of that. Regardless, he suited up and began heading up the remaining half of the mountain with the seven children in tow. Unlike Adarin, he would make sure that, both, the children and the important news were delivered safely to Stonetalon Peak.


End file.
